Birds in my Garden

This winter, beautiful birds continue to sing me songs in the back garden. It's not at all mistifying here in Ireland to hear excitable twitterings in the high branches - otherwise, drowned only by the lashings of a gale - as early as 2 am. In Malaysia, the swallows and sparrows prefer to stay restful and hushed come the sombre nightfall and any coaxing in the way of friendship at such an odd hour, would not be entertained.

Perhaps because it may be considered a relatively warm winter if not an unusually wet and stormy season, I woke up to see a strong ray of sunshine flitting in and various species of birds everywhere.

Crumbs had been scattered for them by a kind neighbour and there were, the big and small ones or even the coloured speckled or tiny grey ones. They nestled on treetops, amongst the mound of dead leaves on the grass, hopped about on a brick gate and partied on the rooftop of the garden shed. The usual home pigeons did not feel threatened and sacrificed a desire to be territorial. A busy snail strolled on, unperturbed.

One sharp-eyed dark bird with a sunny yellow beak even hopped on to my window ledge for a
discreet peek-in, if you will. I was filled with joy at this gift of life. Suddenly, I recalled rhymes and woodland tales of old that had so enraptured me as a little girl and tears flooded my eyes.